


(Im)miscible

by cheesebun



Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: (kind of-very minor), Fever, Fluff, Gen, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Sickfic, Sleepy Cuddles, a teeeeeensy bit of angst, all of the links are there but the tagged ones have the biggest roles!, blue and wind are part of the heat leech club (patent pending), blue is v soft(tm) when sick, red is the ultimate mom(tm) when sick, the others are there but barely LOL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:54:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26078284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheesebun/pseuds/cheesebun
Summary: Four is sick.No,vioblueredgreen’s sick...They’re sick?He isn’t really sure anymore.[Four gets sick and the fever makes the colors all think they've split, even though they haven't. Confusion ensues]
Relationships: Blue Link & Green Link & Red Link & Vio Link, Four & Hyrule & Legend & Sky & Time & Twilight & Warriors & Wild & Wind (Linked Universe), Four & Hyrule (Linked Universe), Four & Legend (Linked Universe), Four & Time (Linked Universe), Four & Twilight (Linked Universe), Four & Wind (Linked Universe)
Comments: 36
Kudos: 347





	(Im)miscible

**Author's Note:**

> Linked Universe belongs to Jojo!  
> Ty to my LU friends for the inspiration for this fic, you guys know exactly who you are 👀 This wouldn't have happened without you, you're all so talented and you inspire me every day ♥️♥️ (even if I only end up making cursed content to plague you and the server with, like Lonic ;))
> 
> Content warnings: Slight hallucination/confusion of reality (due to fever), no vomit/emetophobia triggers!

It’s a day like any other in Wild’s Hyrule when Four wakes up shivering. They had the unfortunate luck of landing near Rito village, which also happens to be in the _middle of the arctic_ , a place which definitely isn’t the best to be in when the warmest thing he is wearing is a thin tunic over a layer of chainmail. He stares longingly at Twilight with his wolf pelt wrapped around his shoulders as they begin to pack up camp, imagining it wrapped around his own. It would probably dwarf him but getting lost in a cocoon of warmth sounds heavenly right now. A sneeze sends a full-body shudder running through him and he rubs his temple, feeling a headache coming on. Four needs to be out of the cold, _now_.

The heroes had just packed up their camp from the previous night when a gate materializes in front of them. It’s tall and has a purple border, but the pathway through it is a murky black, swirling ominously like a dubious potion. If Four squints, he can see hints of grass on the far side of the portal, and that is enough to spur him forward—the cold was really starting to get to him. All he wanted was some sunshine that _didn’t_ reflect off of every Hylia-forsaken surface around him yet somehow fail to serve its key purpose of warming them up. If he was feeling selfish, perhaps a hot drink or two. Before he can even follow Time through the portal, it rushes towards them and spits them out on the other side.

The change in temperature is the first thing that registers once Four can even think past the ringing in his ears, his own voice echoing back and forth in a confused loop of feedback as he tries to regain his bearings. The snow beneath his feet has been traded for solid earth covered in sparse grass, warming him up almost instantly. They’ve been dumped straight into a camp of bokoblins, the short, grimy monsters wielding hefty weapons with a nasty-looking curve in one side. They’re more reminiscent of a butcher’s cleaver than any sword, and Four can tell with one look that they are capable of shearing through his paltry armor with a single slice.

Four continues to scan the situation as he pulls the Four Sword out of its scabbard in a less-than-fluid motion. Once again, the switch between Hyrules has left the hero off-kilter. It happens every time, and the others have done their best to look out for the smithy while he attempts to recover. Four feels a rush of gratitude as Sky and Twilight take up posts at his side in an instant, putting up the guard he cannot keep himself. None of them know why the switches affect their shortest member the most, but they never hesitate to be there for support.

Four, of course, is acutely aware of what warping between worlds does to him, as well as why it happens. Switching always leaves him feeling scrambled, like someone has taken his skull and cracked it open, spilling the contents into a skillet and whisking with vigor. All four parts of him get muddled together until he can’t tell left from right and blue from red, his mind disconnected from his actions. They get thrown directly into battles more often than Four would like, and it’s all he can do to avoid getting skewered by the monster of the day.

He is pulled out of his mind as a bokoblin slashes its weapon directly at him, noticing almost too late. He brings his sword up at the last minute to block the blow, the force lancing up his arms and setting his nerves alight. He is used to the sound of iron clanking against iron from hours of slaving over the forge in his own workshop back home, but the shriek of their swords only pierces through his skull and he almost misses Twilight’s elated cry of “This is my Hyrule!” as the monster he had just skewered vanishes into a puff of smoke and light. The group of heroes have jumped around so many times that an immediate search for familiar landmarks has become a new habit that has engrained itself into their minds. They all feel at least a little homesick, and secretly hope that they can go back to their loved ones, even for just a moment.

Four’s slightly disappointed at the rancher’s claim, but quickly forces himself back to the fight. They’re at the edge of a large field, stuck between the army of monsters and a set of giant metal gates at their backs. He almost immediately regrets wishing for the sun to do its job—Twilight’s sun seems to be taking its job _too_ seriously, beating down on his head and the cracked ground beneath his feet with a vengeance. He could almost swear that the air around him was wavering as though a flame roared across the burnt ground, and his hair almost instantly plasters itself to the back of his neck with sweat. He inhales harshly, the dry air scratching against his parched throat. Alarm races through his mind when he realizes something more is going on. Switching usually leaves him off balance, with a headache at most, but as he raises a hand to his burning eyes, he can feel the pressure behind them pounding in time with his frantic heart. His eyes burn with the effort of keeping track of ally and opponent movements alike, and Four once again thanks Hylia for the support of his travelling companions. If he had been alone, he most certainly would be sporting a new gash or two across his chest. The chainmail underneath his tunic feels like it is attempting to drag him down to earth, its increased weight making his movements even more clumsy.

The bokoblin in front of him pulls back for a second swing just as another one takes aim with a bow from a distance, its arrow alight with a flickering flame. Four jumps back with a gasp, faltering at the last minute as all the blood leaves his face. Lightheaded, he doesn’t even hear the cries of the boys closest to him as his knees buckle, pitching him backwards into darkness.

He is out before he even hits the dusty ground, his mind blissfully quiet at last.

* * *

They wake up in a soft bed, the pressure of multiple blankets resting over his body trapping his body heat in an attempt to stop the chills from breaking through. The weight of his chainmail is gone but they’re wearing their regular multi-colored tunic, and he’s in what looks like an inn with stone walls sporting ragged tapestries. Blue shifts their head to the side with difficulty, wincing at the dizziness that the small movement fills him with. There’s a pile of bags and shields leaning against one of the other beds, and the Four Sword is propped up next to theirs. Red breathes a sigh of relief at the sight, reassured by its presence. The room seems to be empty, so Green leans back and blinks slowly, hoping that the others were all safe. The heat of his fever seems to gather exclusively behind their eyes, leaving their body feeling abnormally cold, even under all of the blankets. The cool cloth settled on their brow alleviates some of the heat but sends drops of water trickling down his neck and into his tunic, creating yet another unpleasant sensation on top of the stuffed-up nose and unstable temperature.

Vio thinks that only a minute has passed, but that can’t be, because Time seems to have teleported into the room. He has a chair pulled up to Red’s bed from the table on the far side of the room and has settled in with a worn-out notebook in hand. They’ve all seen it before, Time often pulls it out on calm nights when he has watch. Like most things in his life, the eldest hero is awfully tight-lipped about its contents, but the others are convinced it has to do with his wife, considering the way the tension seems to melt from Time’s frame every time he pulls it out. A journal, perhaps, or a book of letters? The kind-hearted ranch hand welcomed them all with open arms as though they were members of her own family, and the others can clearly see the toll this distance takes on Time.

Red shifts slightly under the sheets, but the sound is enough to pull Time from his writing. His expression doesn’t change, however, and Vio feels warmth blooming in his chest at the fond look on his brother’s face as he steps over to the bed.

“Hi there,” Time says softly, picking up the now-dry cloth from where it had fallen off of their forehead. An almost imperceptible grimace passes over his face for a moment at the heat radiating from the piece of fabric, and he hums a vaguely familiar tune as he leaves Green’s line of sight. Their gaze wanders as Time shuffles around, swapping the cloth for a new one and soaking it anew.

“You gave us quite a scare out there. We’re glad that you’re ok, Four”

"‘M not Four,” Vio mutters, annoyed at the mistake.

“Is that right?” Time chuckles at the soft protest the boy makes as he strokes their head, smoothing down the hair that is normally held by Green’s headband. The smooth motions help soothe the pounding in their head, and it’s almost enough to lull them back to sleep. Vio still feels a need to correct him, however.

“No, I’m…” He trails off as Blue scolds him, mouthing a _shut up!_ under their breath. They continue to argue for a while, eyes flitting back and forth under half-lowered lids. They usually try their best to not have conversations when the others were nearby, but after so much time spent together it wasn’t as much of a secret as they wished it to be—the others had all noticed it at one point or another, but had all accepted it as just another quirk that came with his journey.

There’s no shortage of these quirks amongst their rag-tag group of adventurers. Wild takes pictures of everything in his path with the slate as if to reassure himself that it would still be there even if his memory failed him again. Sky still speaks softly with the Master Sword even though she no longer responds to him the way she used to. Time knows firsthand how lonely it gets on their adventures, and at times found himself speaking out loud if only to fill the oppressive silence that came with being alone.

“Why don’t you try and go back to sleep? Hyrule and Legend are out getting some medicine, and we’ll be right here when you wake up.” Red opens his eyes with some difficulty at Time’s reassurance, nodding jerkily as he slumps back into the pillow.

Time is right. Every time he wakes up, one of his brothers is there.

* * *

Legend is crouching down to dig through his travel bag when he hears shuffling coming from Four’s bed. He looks up just in time to get every single blanket owned by the nine of them right in the face, knocking him out of his crouch and onto the dusty floorboards. He lets out a yelp as he smacks into the floor, the threadbare carpet beneath him doing nothing to soften his descent. Digging through the swaths of fabric, Legend turns to Four with a glare. The smithy is looking down at him with a look of surprise, panting with the effort of pushing what must have felt like a dodongo’s weight of fabric in his current state. They stare at each other for a minute before Four breaks the silence with a sheepish “Sorry, Red.”

His voice is dry and raspy, and Legend gets up to pour him a cup of water before the words even register in his mind. _Who on earth is Red?_ He asks himself, passing the glass over and watching to make sure Four’s shaking hands don’t drop it as he drinks. That little bit of effort is enough to exhaust him, slumping back against the headboard with a sigh. Legend grabs the glass before it slips from tired fingers.

“Can’t say I know what you’re talking about, kid. You sure the fever isn’t messing with you?” Four turns his unfocused gaze onto Legend, eyebrows furrowing with confusion. His _purple_ _eyes_ , which is strange—Legend could have sworn Four’s eyes were green.

“Hello, Hyrule to Four?” Legend snarks, waving his hand back and forth in front Four’s vacant face. Four’s eyes lose track of his hand almost immediately, giving up and settling on it when it comes to a rest off to the side. He continues to track it with his eyes even as it joins Legend’s other arm where it is crossed against his chest. He guesses this means it’s time for another dose of the medicine Twilight’s shaman friend gave them, and silently reminds himself to grab some more. Four is _out of it_ , and it seems like he is already regretting throwing all his blankets at Legend as small shivers begin to wrack his body.

Legend can almost see the gears turning sluggishly in the other’s head as he opens his mouth again. “Wait, Blue? Did you and Red swap tunics again? That wasn’t funny the first time, you know. And _what_ did you do to your hair? I don’t think pink suits us very well.” 

Legend isn’t sure whether to laugh or be concerned at what he’s hearing. The other hero doesn’t even react to Legend’s complete confusion at his words—and if the nonsensical things coming out of Four’s mouth weren’t enough to cement Legend’s earlier point, the way his words slur together certainly is. The other hero seems to be fighting a losing battle with sleep, blinking deliriously and sagging further down into the mattress. There isn’t really much he _can_ do except pick up the fallen blankets and settle them back over Four’s small frame.

“Just go back to sleep, Four.” He rolls his eyes fondly, turning back to resume the search through his equipment bag. Hopefully he’ll be more coherent the next time around. Now, where did he leave his ice rod?

* * *

Twilight looks down at the bedridden smithy. Four is sleeping restlessly, his face flushed and his breathing labored. He knows the other hero is well into his teens, but he looks so young like this, nothing like the experienced hero they know him to be. He can’t help but remember the kids back in Ordon as he adjusts the blankets from where they’ve shifted almost fully off the bed and goes to smooth Four’s hair down. Colin would love to meet the others—if they stayed in his Hyrule long enough, Twilight was definitely dragging everyone to his home to meet his family.

He’s leaning over to check Four’s temperature when the hero’s eyes jolt open, startling Twilight enough to make him straighten up and take a step back.

“Hey!” Twilight’s voice is full of relief when he doesn’t see any of the confusion Legend and Time mentioned clouding the other’s face. “It’s good to see you—”

“Where are the others?” Four interrupts him sharply. He props himself up on one elbow, hand cradling his head gently as his eyes swivel around to survey the room they’re in.

“ _Twilight, where are they?_ ” The normally stoic boy’s composure crumbles in an instant, panic overtaking him when he doesn’t seem to locate what he’s looking for. He spots his sword propped up on the dresser beside him and makes to reach for it, but Twilight grabs it first. He needs to calm the other down now, before he hurts himself in his confusion. 

“We’re all here, Four. We’re in my Kakariko. A bunch of the others are in the kitchen downstairs helping Wild prep everyone some dinner. Warriors is off gathering information from the Goron shopkeepers, and I think Legend and Hyrule went to the spring to gather some fairies for extra insurance on our travels.”

That answer doesn’t seem to satisfy Four. “What?” His emerald gaze turns to Twilight for a brief moment, eyebrows furrowed, and Twilight gets the impression that the two of them aren’t quite on the same page. The feverish boy is still breathing heavily, and a haze of confusion settles over his expression as he resumes his frantic scanning of the room. “That’s not who I’m—”

“Four, we’re all safe. You’re safe, but sick. Just get some rest.” Twilight interrupts him firmly before Four can upset himself any further. His words seem to get through at least a little—Four’s hand moves from where it’s gripping Twi’s fur above the pile of blankets to his tunic.

“I’m not Fo—” the smithy looks down at the patchwork of multi-colored fabric clutched in his hand as though he has never seen it before in his life.

“Oh,” he says in a small voice, his expression finally smoothing out as he comes to some sort of realization unknown to Twilight. He sways slightly as a look of relief replaces his frantic concern, and Twi lurches forward as the smithy goes limp once again, almost hitting his head on the wooden headboard. Twi settles Four back down and tucks him securely under the pile of blankets, carding a hand through the younger’s sweaty hair.

It seems like the two of them were on one side of two very different conversations. Twi looks back down at the other’s face, his breathing finally evening out after the panic he had worked himself into, silently promising to do whatever he can to look out for him. Four is one of his brothers, after all, and Twilight would do anything for family.

* * *

Balancing a tray in both of his hands, Hyrule slowly makes his way up the inn’s stairs and into the large bedroom. There wasn’t much on it. Four hadn’t woken up enough all day to take anything but a bit of medication and water, so Wild had prepped a simple broth with chunks of carrot and some kind of poultry, as well as some pieces of flatbread. He needed to eat if he was going to regain his strength as soon as possible, as they were never sure how long they had to stay in a Hyrule once they were there. They needed to cover as much ground as possible.

Walking towards the bed, Hyrule tries to avoid spilling any soup as he yawns. He was on the final watch earlier that day in Wild’s Hyrule, and between the unexpected switch and Four’s urgent condition, Hyrule hadn’t gotten even a moment to rest. Even though his magic can’t do anything to relieve illnesses, he was still their de-facto healer. He had spent much of the day working with Sky and Renado, the shaman in Twilight’s Kakariko, on getting just the right medicine for Four.

Surprisingly, Four is awake and even sitting up when Hyrule enters, turning towards him at the noise. He seems to be more alert than the past few times he’s woken up—if Legend’s story from his watch hadn’t been exaggerated, Four had barely been coherent.

“Hey, Four,” Hyrule greets, setting the tray on the bedside table. The younger boy’s eyes follow Hyrule intently as he drags a chair closer and picks up the bowl of soup and a spoon, passing it over gently. He looks up at Four and tilts his head. Four has a calculating look on his face, his eyes blazing with a warm sort of determination. They remind him of a fire in the middle of camp on a summer’s night, drawing everyone in and keeping them safe. Four seems to have made his mind up about something Hyrule isn’t privy to, and if he was being completely honest, it was a little unnerving. Why was he staring at him like that? 

“You look exhausted, ‘Rule,” Four asks worriedly. “When was the last time you slept?” The smithy’s eyes are ringed with shadows darker than the inkiest of forest nights, but they shine with concern. Hyrule just stares back, bewildered. He was just supposed to bring the food, maybe force Four to eat some of it if he was being especially stubborn. The unexpected question has him freezing in his tracks.

“I—Four, I’m fine. You should be more concerned about yourself; you’ve only just woken up and you haven’t eaten all day!” Hyrule’s protests only seem to fuel Four’s determination, the other hero placing the bowl back on the bedside table and crossing his arms stubbornly.

“I’m not going to eat until you get something for yourself, too.” Hyrule just stares back at Four, his mind whirling. _He wasn’t supposed to be the one getting taken care of here_. This random stubborn streak that had surfaced in Four didn’t seem to want to budge, however, so Hyrule picks himself up and marches down to the kitchen to get a bowl of leftover soup. He supposes it’s worth it if it’ll get Four to eat as well, but he still doesn’t understand how he walked out of his sick friend’s room feeling thoroughly scolded for the _one thing_ he was supposed to make the other do. He wasn’t even the one with a fever, for Din’s sake!

* * *

Sleeping in a real bed is a very under-appreciated luxury, Wind decides as he fights to keep his head from dipping every time he nods off from his position in a chair at Four’s bedside. His neck is starting to ache at the sudden movements, and he looks longingly over at the smithy, snuggled under a blanket. Four’s fever finally broke about an hour ago, so they changed him into some of Wind’s spare clothes, the sea-blue tunic being one of the only things amongst the nine heroes that could fit Four’s small stature. He was clearly doing a lot better—the passing of his fever settling the teen down, sleeping far easier than before.

Wind doesn’t even notice that he is listing forward until a blue-clad arm comes into his view, hand resting on his forearm. He shakes his head back and forth to force some wakefulness back into his mind and peeks over at Four. The other boy is staring right back at him, eyes glinting blue in the flickering lamplight as he tugs on Wind’s sleeve and gestures for him to come closer.

He hesitates for a moment. Four isn’t usually one to initiate any sort of physical contact—they’re all pretty close to one another, but Four has always felt slightly more distant, reminding the others to keep a distance and that they all have secrets that they keep from each other. These thoughts get brushed aside easily when Four turns pleading eyes to Wind and he melts almost instantly, slipping under the covers and circling his arms around the sleepy smithy. He tucks the other’s head under his chin and Four responds in kind, digging his head into Wind’s chest and promptly slipping back into a restful sleep.

Sure, he may have caved a little too easily once he saw the rare request in Four’s expression, but who can blame him? The others had long since fallen asleep wherever they could find space, and they don’t really need a watch in the middle of a village. No one’s around to tease them about it—and it would be a shame to waste a perfectly good opportunity to sleep in a bed instead of upright in a chair. It’s warm, Wind is exhausted from a day of running around the village and worrying about his friend, and Four’s being more cuddly than usual. They were all still shaken from the fight earlier that day, seeing Four drop like a stone mid-battle and not knowing if he had taken a hit or if he was going to be able to get back up on his own. And if Wind hugs Four a little too tight, burying his face into the other’s hair and listening to his steady breathing just to remind himself that he was comfortable, uninjured, and _alive_ ; well, neither of them were planning on bringing it up any time soon.

* * *

Four’s head feels clearer than it has in ages when he finally wakes up the next morning, feeling like a storm has passed. He stretches his whole body out, smiling at the satisfying pops that emit from his stiff joints. He most definitely needs a bath, but at the moment he is simply content to revel in the fact that his head isn’t killing him and that his thoughts were finally coherent. Grabbing his sword, shield, and pack from the side of the bed, he makes his way down the stairs and to the kitchen area in the inn, where the others are gathered around a large table and chatting over their breakfast.

They stop as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, smiling and calling this name. Wind gestures at the empty seat next to him and Four settles down, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

“It’s good to see you up and about, Four!” Wild calls from behind the kitchen counter where he is bringing out a tray of pancakes.

“Yeah, you’re looking stronger than ever.” The other heroes nod at Warrior’s comment, Sky patting him on the back from his seat next to Four.

“I wonder how much he remembers,” Legend calls over from the other side of the table, smirking into his cup. The comment sends chuckles through the group, much to Four’s chagrin. He’s almost afraid to ask what Legend means, but the pink-haired hero chimes up again without the need for any prompting.

“You were delirious when I went to check up on you,” He started. “Kept mumbling about colors, and you seemed to think I was someone else.” A squeak escapes him at Legend’s admission, and that only serves to encourage the rest of the group as the laughs rise in volume.

“I came to give you some food, and you refused to eat until I had eaten too.” Hyrule admits, a sheepish look on his face. Four’s face starts to heat up despite himself and he tunes back into the conversation when Twilight pipes up as well.

“You were really worried about finding someone? I thought you were talking about us, but my answers didn’t seem to satisfy you.”

The final nail seals his coffin when he looks over at Wind for support, only to see the sailor avoiding everybody’s gaze, face pink. It comes back to him in a rush, and Blue’s blush is enough to set his whole face alight. He scrambles to cover his face with his hands, listening as Wind’s giggles join the rest. _Honestly_. Lowering his hands, he takes in the group and fails to stop himself from falling into giggles of his own. They’re a rag-tag group, sure, but Four wouldn’t trade them for the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Legend was planning on using the ice rod to try and get rid of Four's fever. 5 adventure's worth of experience =/= intelligence, apparently.  
> 


End file.
